THE COLLECTED POEMS OF HENRIK IBSEN Translated by John ...

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Yes, should the need to fend the North
From foreign foes betide us,
We’ll in the King’s steps venture forth,
With Sweden’s sons beside us.
Fresh coronation it would seem:
A kingly circlet of esteem
Would on the King’s brow cast the gleam
That summer dawns provide us!
Henr. Ibsen
SONG
for
THE SWEDISH PARLIAMENTARY CORONATION-
DELEGATION IN TRONDHJEM 1860
You beheld the temple, chancel shattered,
High vaults broken down;
Still it tells, though hoary-grey and battered,
Tales of high renown:
There the doughty Swedes once hymned their force’s
Blood-drenched battle-line;
To the altar’s foot in Olaf’s shrine
Reckless Swedes once dared to tie their horses.
You beheld the land’s white snow-fields yonder,
Narrow dales you saw;
They too speak and make the memory ponder
Enmities of yore:
Shattered temple walls past restoration,
Olaf’s shrine destroyed; —
But up yonder there’s a host deployed,
Wrapped in sleep and moorland isolation.
Swedish brothers! O’er the mountain border
Now a roadway climbs.
Now the shrine is a new tale’s recorder,
Tale of recent times.
Here, where fiercest hatred blazed its warning,
Kinsmen now unite;
Here, remembrancer of havoc’s night,
Stands a hall of promise, triumph’s dawning.
Yes, though Olaf’s hallowed church was broken,
Yet the folk still thrive;
And, if Sweden’s manhood sleeps unwoken, —
She has more, alive.
Blest then be her flag’s high reputation,
Ours too, newly-won; —